Incomparable
by verumficta
Summary: Merlin & Arthur. Future!Fic  The battle of Camlann; a look inside Arthur's mind.


Incomparable

Arthur can't breathe. His chest is so tight and he feels like he's about to explode. The clash of swords and the screaming soon dulls to his ears and he can see the beautiful sunset from behind his lashes. The soft rain feels like a lover's cool lips against his warm skin, and he welcomes it. He peers through the curtain of rain and continues to watch the swirl of colors as the sun returns home to the sea.

He is so busy watching the secret story that the sky tells that he realizes that he hasn't taken a breath in… how long has it been, exactly? Arthur doesn't remember. He only knows that he doesn't _have _to breathe now. He's happy. He remembers the last time he had tried to, it had hurt. Alot.

He's glad he doesn't have to try again. He's happy to just lay there and watch the sky die. He's so relieved that he doesn't have to try again, to take that shaky breath that he knew wouldn't be enough to satisfy him for long. To feel the piercing of his sides and the pinpricks of pain beneath his skin that almost drives him to tears. Almost.

The warmth of the pinks, yellows and oranges fade away to the last of the blue tinge that seems to cast the world into bright shadow. Arthur almost wants to close his eyes now, for he had never been one to watch the skies once it turned dark. He felt it too sad; like the world was ending, the day dying, time slipping away through his fingers every second, giving him no illusions that he could ever get it back.

But the color of the sky reminds him of a familiar blue that he had never found a comparison for before. Merlin's eyes seem to stare back at him as he continues to watch the sky, and he tucks it away in a special part of himself where only thoughts of Merlin are allowed in, so he remembers forever.

_The color of the evening sky is the color of Merlin's eyes._

It joins the list of things that reminded him of Merlin, though it was hard to stick to a strict list, Arthur muses as Merlin is everywhere he looks. That's when the want hits Arthur, and he feels a pang of sadness that Merlin missed his epiphany that his eyes were Arthur's sky.

He would tell Merlin later, he decides and he's positive that Merlin will smile that smile. The smile that was slow, and bright, and… and… that Arthur has yet to find a comparison for.

It was times like these that Arthur's glad he has his list, for it was the times when he misses Merlin that he pulls the list out from the recesses of himself; and let's his mind wander to thoughts of Merlin.

It was _only _times like these that he thinks of the list, though he is tempted to do so otherwise; he feels like he is substituting Merlin, the _real _Merlin when he merely thinks of him when he's close enough to touch. Which he usually is.

Arthur remembers finding the color of Merlin's hair on a nobleman's horse one day, and he had been so excited he had run all the way to his chambers from the courtyard and seeing Merlin mending his shirt, he had torn it away from Merlin and tossed it behind him. Merlin had made some sort of wild exclamation using some choice profanities, but Arthur would ignore that for now. He was far too excited.

"Your hair looks like a horse's tail!" He had practically yelled, as Merlin gave an extremely exasperated glance behind Arthur, at the torn shirt on the floor. "Oh, so you came all the way here to _disrupt _my work, which you asked me to do by the way. To _insult _me? You _are_ a prat." Arthur simply waves him off, and pulls him to the window overlooking the courtyard where the noble's horse stood.

"You could as easily magic it, _Mer_lin. I don't know why you choose to make things so difficult." Merlin's mouth drops open, probably to point out that _Arthur_ had been the one to order Merlin to never again use magic when he didn't have to. That was years ago though, it certainly didn't apply _now. _

"_Merlin, _look!" He says and tugs excitedly at Merlin's sleeve until the man, sighing like an indulgent parent, looks down at the horse. "Yes, Arthur. And?" Arthur had frowned; he certainly did not pout. "It's the color of your hair, Merlin! See, when the sun shine hits it, it's not just black anymore! It becomes a shiny purple, and when it's in the shade, it's like the darkest velvet, look! See for yourself!"

He had then proceeded to pull out a long strand of the horses' mane from his pocket, to find Merlin smiling at him. Merlin's smile was soft and warm, it had been _that _smile. Arthur was sure he had never seen anything more beautiful. "You idiot." Merlin whispers as he leans in to kiss Arthur. Arthur decides to let that insult slip. This once.

Arthur is surprised when he realizes he's been wrong all along. He usually hates being proven wrong, but this time Arthur decides he'll let it go. He stares up at the sky, and sees the shine of the stars, mere blurs of light through the rain; but stars nonetheless. And he realizes, that the sky wasn't dying at all. Instead, it merely passed from one stage of life to the next, becoming more beautiful each time.

Arthur isn't scared.

He feels the slow ache in his side coming back, so instead he thinks of Merlin again. Thinks back to the first time he started that list of his; years ago when those nobles had visited, a father and a daughter. Sidhe's, Merlin had called them when he finally trusted Arthur with his secret.

Not that Arthur didn't know. He had seen the flare of beautiful, melted gold in his lover's eyes before. But Arthur didn't say a word, choosing instead to wait until Merlin was ready to tell him. Arthur hadn't a need to wait for much in his life, but Merlin, _Merlin_ was worth the wait.

He doesn't remember much about Sophia, if that was her name, enchanting him. But he does remember the soft gold of the water as he sunk to the bottom of the lake, and his only coherent thought through it all was that Merlin would have very much enjoyed swimming in the lake and that the next time it got that hot out, Arthur had to remember to bring Merlin.

The soft gold of the water had lulled Arthur into a trance, much like staring into Merlin's normal blue eyes. He was perfectly content to stay submerged in them, and he would have, if not for the owner of those eyes diving in and saving him. And when Merlin confesses later that he didn't know how to swim when he dived in, Arthur cannot help but call him an idiot, and lean in for a kiss. And a million.

The pain is even worse now, but the stars blink down at him, smiling, though their smiles will never compare to those of Merlin's. They tell him that it is his time now, to die and be born again, more beautiful than ever before.

_Not yet, _Arthur wants to say.

But someone else voices his thoughts, a scream, a long, drawn out scream of pure pain that left Arthur wondering what exactly the person had screamed.

"_Arthur."_ The voice is closer now, and he feels fingers on him but he's too busy staring at the stars to care. Only one person could rival them in his eyes.

"_You bloody prat."_

Arthur blinks, almost lazily when he finally recognizes the voice, and those eyes- those beautiful eyes that sent rivulets of tears and rain down his cheeks.

Arthur frowns, because he definitely does _not _pout. "You're _late_, Merlin. You missed the sunset." And Merlin smiles.

Arthur laughs; a mere exhale of breath, but a laugh nonetheless and it was a bloody good one at that because what better laugh is there than one shared with the person you love the most in all the world.

He laughs, because Arthur realizes that he would never, ever find _anything _that could ever compare to Merlin's smile. In this life, or the next.


End file.
